


Wolf at the Door

by Attacus_atlas



Category: Pentagon (Korea Band)
Genre: Drabble Collection, Fantasy, Monsters, Other, Red Riding Hood - Freeform, Werewolves, oh my, think of this as a little spooky treat?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2019-08-11 03:45:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16468070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Attacus_atlas/pseuds/Attacus_atlas
Summary: The elders had called him soft, too fragile to live alone with the beasts. He wondered what made them say such a thing.There were no such things as monsters and beasts. Those were just fairytales mothers told their children to scare them into bed....but the wolves said otherwise.





	1. Intro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to a red riding hood themed Pentagon Drabble collection! 
> 
> As a warning I’ll update this pretty irregularly, but I wanted to at least share the intro on this spooky day of Halloween (technically hallows eve here, but it’s never too early to celebrate).
> 
> I’ll add characters and warnings into the tags as they appear :)

He’d heard there were monsters that lived in the woods. The deep dark rows of cedar and oak hid eyes that he could feel burn his skin as he walked home. The cottage at the edge of the stream that held fish to eat and fresh water to drink. The old men in the village had warned him of the beasts. The two ghastly boys who’d been cursed to live in the woods as demons. 

He hadn’t believed them, not at first. The woods were quiet, desolate, solitary. Everything he’d asked for. But then he started to feel those two pairs of eyes bore into his chest like they could see his heart pump and beat. The stares felt hungry, yet the beasts never made a move. They simply watched him carry out his days. Watched as he foraged and fished and burned the spare wood to stay warm.

The footprints became more apparent in the rain and snow. Big footprints, not quite man nor wolf. They’d trace circles around his home, once, twice, three times before they trailed off into the dark woods of tall cedars and oak. 

The elders had called him soft, too fragile to live alone with the beasts. He wondered what made them say such a thing. The softness he had was all a ruse, he was hardened with muscle in his limbs and his heart had hardened with the trials life had presented him. There was nothing soft in him but the default gaze he cast over anything that could speak.

That was why the woods had been so appealing after all. He didn’t have to put on  face to make it through the day without questions because there was no one there to ask them. He had everything he needed, food, water, a roof over his head and a bed to sleep in. He didn’t need the tiring quarrels of the village people. He didn’t need the gossip or the news. He just wanted quiet. 

A year of quiet proved to be enough.

A whole year and he had spoken to no one. In theory, it was just what he wanted. However, that human itch to converse hadn’t left him. He was forgetting what his own voice sounded like, but he didn’t dare to interrupt the silence he had searched for. 

Though he stayed silent, it seemed something heard his unspoken urges. The gazes on his skin grew hotter. They bore deeper into his back and straight through to his heart. Until he felt warm breath on his neck. The cursed beast that he’d lived with for a year had gained the courage to get closer. They were more than abstract feelings and fading footprints now. He could feel them, hovering over him at a towering height. A glance down showed their looming shadows stretched across the meadow grass he stood in. 

He hoped their prior distance hadn’t been calculative. He hoped their previous stares weren’t full of observation reserved only for prey. He hoped this encounter wouldn’t be the final chapter of his miserable story.

It turned out to be the beginning of another tale entirely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this spooky little intro. I’ll post little snippets of this story here and there as ideas pop into my head. This isn’t something I’m super serious about right now, but I haven’t written fantasy things in a while and wanted something fun and fantastical to come back to every so often. This isn’t something i’ll Update super frequently, but the idea has been tumbling around in my head for a while, so I thought I’d share!
> 
> Happy Halloween everyone! Get plenty of treats and have some fun!
> 
> You can contact me on my [Tumblr](http://a-tt-acus.tumblr.com) or [Twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/a_tt_acus).


	2. Chapter 1: Darkest Parts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just going to drop this here so I won’t keep forgetting I wrote a short chapter update for this...

He remembered those words as clear as day.

_“Beware of the woods, you foolish boy. No matter how set on living there you are, it’s no place for us. In the darkest parts where the sun never shines, hides much scarier things than humans. Don’t wander in there unless you’re willing to breathe your last breath.”_

What person wasn’t afraid of the dark at some point in their lives? He’d outgrown that fear long ago unlike the old man who had told him that. The horrible things that happen in the dark are no worse than what goes on in broad daylight. He’s seen equally disturbing things during both night and day. No one could tell him otherwise.

So, while hunting a rabbit one day to use for stew, he ignored the old man’s words. Determined, he quietly trailed after the rabbit into the dim space beneath the dense cedar trees. Undoubtedly, it was much darker here, shadows cast across the leaf litter were blurry and ill-defined. He couldn’t make out details in the tree bark very far away, but he could still see the bright white of the rabbit’s tail.

And a flash of black fur before the rabbit vanished.

He froze in shock. It had happened so fast, if he’d blinked just a second earlier, he would have missed it. 

_Crunch._

That sound was unmistakable.

_Cruunch._

The snap of fragile bones. The snap he knew belonged to a rabbit after roasting so many for stew.

Curiosity was always his weakness. Slowly, carefully, he picked his way through the leaves towards the noise. It came from behind a low wall of brambles and waxy leaves. By the time he arrived, the thief was gone. Just a bloody, shredded carcass remained. 

He sighed as he internally bid his dinner farewell. It seemed he’d have to settle on wild onion and potato stew instead. Meat was off the menu for tonight.

////

The second time he came close to the darkest part, he was collecting blackberries along the shadowy rim. 

It was daytime, but the trees still drenched the space beyond them in shadow. He stared into that dark space as he walked towards the fruit saturated vines. Foolishly unafraid.

The berries were ripe enough to burst in his hands, staining his fingers black and red. He dropped handfuls into the basket slung over his arm and lined with a thick linen to soak up the juice. It took patience and practice to avoid the thorns armoring the vines. The early morning light did little to help him as the dense leaves absorbed any rays that tried to pierce through. 

Birds seemingly appeared from nowhere as he finished filling the basket, swatting him in the face with wings and cutting his cheek with their thin talons. The basket swung as he shielded his face behind his arms. Berries bounced across the dirt and fallen leaves. He stepped back, a few turning to mush under the heel of his boot. Another step and he backed into a solid object. His eyes flew open. Slowly, he lowered his arms in preparation to turn around, but a hand on his waist made him freeze in terror. He stared down at the very human hand slowly trailing its way around to his front and up over his chest. It left a red path in it’s wake.

Nails gently grazed skin as the hand slid over his neck, only stopping once it had reached his cheek and jaw. The palm pressed wet and sticky against his skin. Hot breath on the back of his neck made him gulp. The copper tinge of blood made his nose burn. The basket fell from his arm, tumbling over the forest floor along with what was going to be his breakfast for the next two days. He felt a pair of lips and the tip of a sharp nose brush against his nape.

As soon as the person pulled away, they vanished, leaving him alone once more with the berries and the brambles.

He fell to his knees, staining them black and red like his fingertips.

He came the forest to escape other people. Since when were there others living in these woods? And what did they want?


End file.
